


bed peace

by chump



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, Unspecified Feelings, but mostly talking about and preparing for cuddling, definitely a sleppy narrator, it switches, light self deprecation, maybe unreliable narrator?, not much happens but its all soft, rating may change as time goes on but who knows, so sorry if pov is wonky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 04:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19659757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chump/pseuds/chump
Summary: Patrick can't sleep, so Cuddle Expert Brian pays him a visit.





	bed peace

**Author's Note:**

> standard RPF rules apply. do not send this to anyone whose likeness is featured in it, nor to anyone who is friends/coworkers/personally involved with said individuals. this is pure fiction, babey, and probably partially projection because dear god to i need a cuddle. 
> 
> i literally woke up this morning and the first thing i thought was “holy shit why haven’t I seen any professional cuddler!brian fics yet” so i decided to write this one. it is short, maybe a little sweet if i’m lucky. i take a long time to write very few words because i edit as i go — that being said, this is clearly un beta’d. enjoy ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Pat wasn't stupid — he knew there was something wrong with him. 

Okay, that might have sounded stupid, because there was a fuckton of shit wrong with him; his back was fucked up, his mind was almost permanently in the gutter, he had a sadistic streak a mile wide and, along with a hundred thousand other deplorable flaws, he frequently had some trouble sleeping. 

But this had to be something new. 

Pat was pissed off at first, but after the eighth day straight of this routine - tossing and turning and standing up and pacing and drinking water and getting up to go to the bathroom just to give himself something to do in the hopes it would tire him out even though it never did and he still was awake to see the sun rise in the sky - he was just beyond exhausted at this point.

On Monday, when he barely made it to his shitty sofa at 6 am without falling over, he sent a quick, apologetic, and probably only half-legible email to Tara asking for the day off. He knew this was the final straw, so he opened the god damned app tucked away in the depths of his iPhone folders, and scheduled an appointment for noon. 

"CUDDLE EXPERT BRIAN" had a short-but-sweet bio (which included a few cheeky jokes along with the phrase "certified bullseye on the Cuddler's Zenith (tm)" and Pat didn't quite know what that meant, but damn if it didn't sound good), several reviews (all stellar), and an... _interesting_ picture. 

Pat wouldn't exactly call the picture _good_ or _friendly_ or _welcoming_ when he realized the man had a mustache, but he was holding a cat in his lap and wearing a soft looking maroon turtleneck and a pair of peachy-yellow glasses and his smile was altogether inviting, and Pat hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since he'd downloaded the app a week ago when his troubles first began. 

It was Allegra who started this whole thing at first, really. He'd mentioned his insomnia's latest hiccup and, as usual, she immediately started trying to solve it for him. He'd already tried most of it - the isolation from his phone, the warm milk, all that jazz - but when she mentioned the possibility of physical closeness being a problem, Pat immediately brushed it off.

But his brain never let go of the idea.

He always slept better with a partner or friend next to him, but dating wasn't something he felt especially keen on these days and he didn't have that kind of physical closeness with most of his close friends... and that was okay! At first, Pat was totally, completely _fine_ , even if he was touch starved.

But at this point, after going more than a week with around 40 hours of sleep in total under his belt, Pat just needed to find a fucking solution. 

So he showered, got dressed, made a shitty breakfast, texted Brian over the shitty app messager when he asked questions, and played some video games to kill time, until he heard a knock on the door.

_Dear god._

—

This wasn’t Brian David Gilbert’s first cuddle rodeo, not by any means. 

When he first told Laura about this gig (which, holy shit, was that really over a year ago?) she’d laughed disbelievingly before the realization set in. Jonah had shrugged and offered himself up if anything ever went wrong (which, nothing awful had happened yet, _thank God_ , but Brian definitely had some weird interactions which he excused by turning them into hilarious stories). Whenever he had to tell other people, he explained it as a form of therapy, and that helped people be a little less judgy about his line of work. 

But it still felt very strange that this odd job had actually become “his line of work”. Even if he was still doing the podcast with Laura and Jonah and he made videos every now and then, he still made most of his money from these appointments, so he had the routine down pat:

Call the agency, text Laura and Jonah his location, eat beforehand to avoid tummy rumbles, show up at the place, make some calming smalltalk, discuss boundaries, then the actual cuddling part, then set up another session if necessary, and leave.

Brian always asked about allergies and preferences beforehand, because he was extra careful and didn’t want to have a PB&J before breathing too close to the wrong person, because anaphylactic shock is not necessarily one of the preferable ends of the cuddler’s zenith. 

Today’s client, Patrick Gill, had an allergy to latex and berries, very few preferences of fabric besides “something soft??”, and honestly? Brian was kind of excited for this one.

Patrick had explained his problem with insomnia briefly, but Brian didn’t really understand the weight of the issue before the door to the man’s apartment opened and the figure before him, dressed in a white t-shirt and gray sweats, appeared barely staying upright. Brian smiled the same bright smile and stuck out his hand (he’d just painted his nails yesterday, a shimmering reddish-pink), speaking low but not condescending while he introduced himself. Patrick mumbled a hello while he shook his hand, attempted a smile, and invited him in. 

“So,” Brian started once the two had seated themselves on the couch, “would you like to cuddle here, or in the bedroom?” 

“Oh,” Patrick realized, mind a bit bleary, “the bed, sorry!”

“No, you’re fine, it’s good to talk first. I figured as much, though,” Brian smiled cheekily, “This thing is kinda too short for you to lay on, much less both of us.” 

Patrick let out a soft chuckle, looking down at the floor. Brian liked the sound of the man’s laugh, deep and rasping, and felt more at ease than he usually did in these appointments. After a few more questions (“So, what exactly is the cuddler’s zenith?” “Funny you should ask-”) and boundaries (“My neck is super sensitive and not in a good way, so that’s definitely a red zone.” “Yo, neck recognize neck!”) were exchanged before he and Patrick headed for the bedroom, which was clearly cleaned haphazardly.

But hey, who was Brian to judge?

— 

Pat was only anxious about this one _particular_ bit for a moment, actually. 

He stared down at the bed while Brian waited for his direction, patient and non-intrusive as could be. It took him some time to find the words, sometimes, but at long last,

“I don’t usually do this, but uh. Is it okay if I-can you be. The big spoon?” _God, I must be fucking stupid-_

“Of course. I assumed that would be better for you,” Brian immediately soothed. “To help you sleep.” 

_He has such pretty fucking eyes_ , Pat couldn’t help but think, suddenly lifted of the burden he didn’t know was weighing on him. He was a tall guy, he knew, and people usually expected him to _top_ or whatever all the time. He didn’t hate it, but he was just like everyone else, and sometimes he liked to feel cared for. 

The warmth of an embrace, and all that bullshit, was supposed to help in that regard. 

Pat let out a sigh — of relief or anticipation, he wasn’t sure. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing while lifting the duvet, shimmying under the covers, and waiting for Brian to join him.

And then Brian’s arm was tucked softly beneath his own, a soft puff of breath constant against his back. 

_Oh_. 

_This_ was what he had been missing. 

His breaths evened out almost immediately, his head suddenly becoming heavy on his pillow, eyes drooping shut. _That was fast_ , he couldn’t help but think, _this kid is_ good. 

When Brian asked him a question, he barely noticed at first. 

“Is it alright if I wake you when our time is up?” he’d asked, and Pat finally nodded a couple times before letting out a confirming hum. 

“Alright. Goodnight Patrick.” Came Brian's words in that same sweet, low tone. 

But Pat was already adrift, dreaming of nothing and sleeping _peacefully_.

**Author's Note:**

> if u have critiques, additions, complaints, or questions pls comment!!! i’ve started a movie theater AU but i haven’t gotten far in it at all despite the fact that in order to be Good it will also need to be Long, so. maybe look forward to that?


End file.
